


Handsome

by MMLE



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Blindness, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kink Meme, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 18:18:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4845548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMLE/pseuds/MMLE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on the kinkmeme. One night, Claire compliments Matt expecting a smart ass response. Instead he confesses that he's unsure about his looks; he hasn't seen his reflection since he was 9.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handsome

“Jesus. More men should have heightened senses,” she said, easing herself off of Matt and rolling to her side of the bed. 

She quickly caught her mistake. “Sorry… I…” Matt cut her off before she could stammer any more. “It’s okay to take the Lord’s name in vain if it’s about my sexual prowess, Claire” he laughed, and gave her his mischievous half-smile. God, she loved the curve of his lips. She could almost forgive his ego when that smile accompanied it. 

“Oh, is that how it works? I must have skipped that part of the Commandments in Sunday School.” 

Matt laughed and rolled to face her, stroking his hand on her bare breasts. She could feel his calluses and the roughness of his battle worn knuckles. She loved this. Loved lying here, getting to know the real man under the ridiculous horned mask. Knowing that every minute he spent in bed with her was a minute he was not prowling for danger. She’d seen him fight, knew what those hands could do. But with her, he was sweet, caring, and the only man in recent memory able to match her wit. 

“Well, it also doesn’t help that you’re so damned handsome, Matt. Have you considered giving your closing arguments shirtless? You might win all you cases more easily.” He smiled, but this time it was polite. He turned onto his back once more, eyes blankly pointed toward the ceiling. 

Her sweet, caring, witty, and fucking mercurial Matt. She knew enough to know that she’d hit some nerve, and felt a bit of annoyance that his mood could shift so quickly. 

“I’m sorry, do we prefer sexy? Fit? ‘Handsome’ not really your thing?” 

“Honestly, I have no idea what I prefer,” Matt said flatly. 

“Matt, I… it was only a compliment, there’s..” for the second time that night, her apology was cut off. 

“I mean, I’ve been called that before, but I don’t know how to feel about it. The last time I saw my reflection, I was nine, I was this awkward little kid. I have no idea how I appear now.” He took a breath and continued, more quietly. “I can tell how I effect people, but I have a hard time separating that from whatever interest I just peak as someone’s temporary ‘project’.”

Claire felt something seize in the pit of her stomach. “You’re not my project, Matt. And really do you think I would have pulled you out of that dumpster and brought you into my living room if you weren’t so good looking?” she added. As the words left her mouth, she cringed. He murmured something she took as an affirmative, but confirmed her terrible attempt at levity. 

“I’m sorry. That was a bad joke.” The room was heavy with silence. “I can tell this is something raw for you.” 

“No, I - I’m making too big a deal about this.” He grunted and sat up, scooting to the end of the bed. “I suppose I’ll put on some clothes now.” 

Claire’s mind was still racing. Was that all she was going to get out of him? Raw edge and then completely shutting her out? He quietly pulled on his favorite sweatpants. 

“Wait, Matt, let me pick something out.” 

He roughly sat back down and she made her way over to his closet, tickling her fingers against his shoulder as she passed him at the end of the bed. Careful, so as not to mess up the meticulous order he used to organize his clothes, she located a soft, navy t-shirt. 

“This one is navy. It brings out the color of your eyes nicely.” 

“I know what color my eyes are, Claire.” 

“Mmm.” She murmured, deep in her throat. “Sure. But they change, with the light.” Hell, with his mood, she thought. “Right now they’re rich and dark but when the light strikes them just right, they look almost golden.” She knew she was pressing on a sensitive spot. It was hard not to notice the way Matt used his glasses as a shield, exposing his eyes only when he felt completely at ease. “They’re beautiful, Matt, and it’s something I love about you.” His head dipped downward, almost like he was embarrassed to hear the compliment.

She brought the shirt over to the bed and stuffed it into his hand, bending down to kiss his head roughly. “Your hair, it’s brown, but has an almost red tint to it in certain lights. It fluffs up, which keeps it from ever looking too lawyer-ly,” she laughed, “especially when you’ve been in the mask.” She could swear he was gently blushing. 

“You might know all that from when you were nine, but your mouth…” she began to kiss him. Slowly, moving over each inch of his lips. “They’re full, with a curve. But you have a masculine jawline and just the right amount of stubble,” she moved her lips lower, working her way up his face, “it’s an enticing combination.” 

He kissed her back roughly and pulled the shirt over his head. “Thank you, Claire.” Was he still unconvinced? She hoped she hadn’t inadvertently offended him; the lips, the stubble, the hair - all those were things Matt could well make out for himself through touch. And everything else, unlikely to have changed since his childhood.

“Matt,” she ventured carefully, “did you keep any photos of your father?” 

“Yeah, just uh… just one. It seemed wrong to get rid of them all,” he added softly. “There’s a closet in my living room with a trunk. In there.” 

Claire made her way to the living room, locating the trunk and closet. She lifted the lid and felt a pang at the litters of Jack Murdock’s boxing career laid out before her. She ran her hands over the letters on the ‘Battlin’ Jack Murdock’ robe before noticing the single picture frame. It showed Jack, mid-workout, at Fogwell’s Gym. Although he was in profile, she could still make out the resemblance between Jack and his son. She carried the picture into the bedroom. 

“Do you remember this picture?” He nodded. 

She surveyed it carefully and kneeled in front of him near the bed, gathering his features into focus. “You have his nose, I think, if he hadn’t broken it so often,” she guessed about the hazards of Jack’s occupation. Matt let out a lighter laugh and nodded almost imperceptibly. “Your eyebrows and cheeks are fuller, which gives you a more youthful look than him. Same eyes; different color.” She continued on for a while, carefully noting each feature - where there were similarities as well as differences. 

When she finished, Matt gripped her chin and pulled her close for a kiss. “Thank you, Claire” and this time, he meant it. 

“I hope you understand now that you’re not my project, Matt. To me, you will always be handsome because you are the man that I love. And I love you for many reasons, one of which - shallow or not - is your looks. So your modesty is lost on me, kid.” 

He whispered an “I love you, too” into her hair. They separated and Matt rose to make his way into his living room. 

“And your ass, Matt. I don’t know who is genetically responsible for that, but bless them.”

**Author's Note:**

> First Daredevil fic. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
